


common language

by slyther_ing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Extended Metaphors, Falling In Love, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Vignette, truly a lot of extended metaphor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 23:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19261453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slyther_ing/pseuds/slyther_ing
Summary: marcus considers the l-word.





	common language

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr.

**01.**  

Marcus says  _I love you_  like a drizzling day -  the clouds stay on the brink of dissolving into a torrential downpour, but never get to the tipping point.

The ground is damp, because there’s too much to hold without some water seeping through, but he won’t allow himself to let go of the rest. He brushes his hand over Oliver’s hair, and presses a kiss to his forehead. Nothing more, nothing less.

** 02.  **

He’s punched Oliver two times in his life.

Once, when they were twelve and thirteen, respectively. A rite of passage for their quidditch teams to brawl, and Marcus had seen him and thought  _mine_. Thought it’d be a worthwhile effort, because he didn’t want easy. He wanted a game. And Wood fell right in, curious, with no reservations.

The second time, Wood had pushed him. Had kept pushing him, pushed his finger into the open wound and asked for a fight, and Marcus had given it to him. They were angry, at each other, at the way they couldn’t look each other in the eye without caving. Oliver had landed more punches, but Marcus thinks Oliver had been hurting more.

They were twenty one and twenty two, respectively. There was a war.

They remembered they were human and fallible and breakable. They wrapped their bodies around each other on the floor and waited for daybreak together.

** 03.  **

Oliver never remembers an umbrella, just stands there, dripping water onto the hardwood, grinning as Marcus tries to dry him off in a hurry.

** 04.  **

Sometimes Marcus imagines saying it all at once.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

As if he can’t get enough. As if the floodgates are open. As if it’s fragile, and it is - crystal precious, each syllable, the roll of the tongue too delicate to let drop.

He wants Oliver to catch it. He wants the words to be safe, for them to end up exactly where they should be.

** 05.  **

Oliver gives out  _I_   _love you’s_  like halloween candy - liberal, sweet, plenty to go around. He drops it in goodbyes, ties up his promises with them. Marcus knows he means them all. Oliver doesn’t care where they end up as long as Marcus hears them.

Oliver says it every night before bed, and every morning before practice, and Marcus watches each of them land by his side, feels them knit into his clothes. Sometimes he tastes them, when Oliver is kissing him and kissing him and those are the best ones, because they’re tangible and Marcus can hold on.

** 06.  **

Oliver settles the quaffle firmly in his hands, and passes it back to Marcus without a second thought.

“C’mon, Flint. You can throw farther than that.”

Marcus does. Oliver catches it safely, with a grin, eyes bright.

**Author's Note:**

> this - is probably one of my absolute favorite damn things i've ever written and i completely forgot about it. there's something about metaphors and love languages and; just; yeah.


End file.
